


Alfred, a comedy

by Anonymous



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred POV, Blanket Permission, DCU KinkMeme Prompt Fill, F/F, F/M, Humor, I hope, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24795724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Poor Alfred often gets stuck cleaning up the mess when the family brings their partners over.Or, Alfred Pennyworth's thoughts on the batfamily's sex lives.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Everyone, Alfred Pennyworth/Martha Wayne/Thomas Wayne, Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd/Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Bizarro, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, implied
Comments: 49
Kudos: 213
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Enter Alfred Pennyworth.**

When Master Bruce had built the dark Bat Cave, it would be dishonest to say that Alfred had not considered that it might be about sex. 

Master Bruce _was_ reaching that age, after all. Alfred himself had matured a bit faster in his own youth, but Master Bruce was infatuated with the concept of justice and troubled by the trauma of his parents’ untimely deaths, so allowances had to be made for the boy. Alfred had considered the Bruce may have found someone while he was away training but he ultimately dismissed the notion.

Boys his age only think about one thing, as the saying goes.

For Master Bruce, that one thing was justice.

He was beginning to get a little worried by the time the young master confided in him that he would be taking on a construction project, but, Alfred admitted, remembering the child’s potty training days and the vast amounts of gold star sticker charts they’d had to employ, Master Bruce had always been a late bloomer. 

When Master Bruce finally emptied out the dark, dungeon-like cave, furnishing it with weapons and bat-themed objects, Alfred thought he finally understood the boy. It was not at all unusual to be… entranced, so to speak, with a certain subject when engaging in coitus, and Master Bruce did have some certain… proclivities, after all. 

The fursuit did not help matters. Shiny and black and bat-themed though it may be. 

It was additionally not altogether unusual for fetishes to develop and be rooted to experiences from childhood—Master Bruce’s own father Master Thomas had confided in Alfred (who had been a bit… tied up at the time, so to speak) that his own preference for stockings on both men and women was based on an experience he’d had with an older married couple as a teenager at a charity gala. As for Mrs. Wayne—well, Martha’s preference for being restrained during intimate activities was based on a brief kidnapping she’d had as a child, and Alfred was all too happy to use his SAS training to weave together the firmest knots available. It would not surprise Alfred much if Master Bruce took after either of his parents and developed his _close_ interest in bats based on his experience falling down the well as a young boy. 

Alfred was a bit surprised when Master Bruce didn’t invite anyone over to share the space with him. He began to consider that he might have made some erroneous assumptions about his young masters’ interests. 

He did briefly consider that perhaps the man had more of a carnal interest in the physical aspect of fighting on the streets when he set the man’s ribs and gained a closer look at the dark purple marks mottled across his body. 

Perhaps… or perhaps not. Perhaps the man was still maturing. 

The irony did not escape him that his young master’s famous alter ego was allegedly a Casanova.

**Enter District Attorney Harvey Dent.**

When he noticed how Master Bruce interacted with the handsome Harvey Dent, Alfred smiled to himself. The attractive district attorney would be a welcome addition to the family, if Alfred has any say about it.

Then, Master Bruce’s friendship with Mr. Dent was cut short. Due to unfortunate medical and criminal circumstances that his young master blamed himself for, it was not to be. 

**Exit District Attorney Dent, pursued by a bear.**

**Brief intermission.** Mr. Dent would ultimately not be joining their family, so Alfred purged the thought from his mind. 

**Enter the young Master Richard.**

Still, Alfred began to get concerned when Master Bruce adopted the first boy. It wasn’t unusual for billionaires to… but—he’d never have expected it of the one he raised. It didn’t help to see what those dastardly reporters were printing in the papers, either. 

But he didn’t let on his suspicions. He made sure to hide the newspaper in the morning before either of the boys got up after a long night. 

Still, he kept a close eye on how Master Bruce and the young Master Richard interacted to ease his fears. It was much better to be safe than sorry later on. When he’d been shown the Robin costume for the first time, he very pointedly did not say anything about the length of the shorts the boy would be running around in. 

Despite… dubious fashion decisions, Alfred ultimately decided there was nothing amiss. The bond between his two masters was father and son, or occasionally brother-like, given their small age difference. 

He was happy to set his mind to rest. He’d raised this boy and he knew he wouldn’t ever do anything untoward. 

Not to a boy they both loved so much. 

**Enter the gorgeous Ms. Kyle, holding a whip.**

_(Perhaps Master Bruce is straight,_ Alfred mused, looking on from the computers in the bat cave as the man shivered on the rooftop underneath the woman in the black leather suit, making soft, pathetic whimpering noises. Alfred had personally never considered the notion before, as he had been interested equally in men and women—Master Bruce’s late parents, for instance.

After some time, Alfred looked away.)

**End scene.**

Despite the difficulties in arriving at that point, Ms. Kyle eventually slept over and Alfred proudly handled the sheets from the master bedroom, though he held them with two pinched fingers and a wrinkled nose. 

The boy he’d raised was all grown up!

(And hopefully ready to do his _own_ laundry.)

**Time passes.**

Master Bruce began to do his own laundry, as requested. 

Master Richard grew. He was not so developmentally delayed as Master Bruce, Alfred noted with no small amount of gratitude. The evidence had been staring him in the face when he’d gone into the boy’s room with cool lemonade on a day Miss Gordon was visiting.

That was not a day Alfred presumed any of them would forget for a long time—Master Richard because there was a strong possibility it had been his first time, given the evidence of a… premature nature of his affections for Miss Gordon had stained the curtains (a rather acrobatic feat as a result of the boy’s surprise to be walked in upon), Miss Gordon because she had _witnessed_ that, and Alfred himself because he had soon after swore to always get verbal confirmation before entering private areas in the future. 

Master Richard began washing his own sheets after that. Alfred did not have to ask. 

That was not, however, _all._

Alfred _did_ leave a polite note asking Master Richard to ‘please be careful where he leaves his toys from now on’ when he finds a butt plug, still vibrating, between the couch cushions and mistook it for a cell phone. 

They don’t speak of it again, although Master Richard also cleaned up his old child’s playroom from when he was younger—likely to ease his mind and pretend Alfred had been talking about something else. 

When Master Richard moved out to live on his own, he was sure it was a relief for both of them, although Alfred missed him, of course. He was his grandchild in all the ways that mattered. 

(Alfred could admit to himself that he loved Master Bruce as his own son—and there had been a time where that had been a question, also, since Master Thomas and his wife had never been sure whether it was Alfred or her husband who had impregnated her in the first place. Only when Master Bruce grew could Alfred truly see what a spitting image of Master Thomas the boy turned out to be.)

**Enter Master Jason.**

The media rumors about Bruce Wayne adopting dark-haired, blue-eyed boys fired up again. Alfred didn’t worry. 

Jason was a sweet, kind boy whose anger sometimes got the best of him. 

He stayed with them for such a short time he hardly got the hang of leaving any messes for Alfred to clean up, being so used to cleaning up on his own. 

Alfred loved him. 

It ruined all of them when he died. 

**Exit Master Jason.**

**Enter Master Timothy.**

Alfred didn’t worry much about Master Timothy. The boy was disinterested in romance or other, related, adult activities, even as he continued to mature. 

He had a girlfriend, at one point. ( **Enter Miss Stephanie Brown**.) Incidentally, she was also pregnant. It could not have been more obvious that the baby was not his.

Despite his… voyeuristic tendencies with the camera, Alfred was certain it would be some time before the boy engaged in anything of the sort with anyone. If ever. 

He put it on the back burner with the tea until the boy was much older. Thirty five, at least. Maybe around forty, closer to the age Bruce had been.

On the other hand, Miss Stephanie Brown was an interesting case. 

Despite her previous pregnancy, Alfred never saw her with a boy again once her relationship with Timothy ended. 

The first clue was when he went to close the laptop she’d been looking at as she slept sprawled over the couch. It was very bad to sleep with blue light around, after all. He only gave the screen a brief glance, not being one to snoop. Still, when he read her query, he had to double take. 

r/AskReddit: _Does my ability to eat pudding cups with my tongue without a spoon have a correlation to ability to eat a girl out?_

Alfred closed the screen. 

The second clue was when he heard them. ( **Enter Miss Cassandra**.) The girls had gone to Miss Stephanie’s room to ‘have a girls’ night in’ as they said. Alfred had, erroneously, assumed this meant nail polish and romantic movies. 

He was walking through the hall dusting the furniture when he heard an “uh, uh, mm” sound, almost as if someone was in pain. 

Alfred followed the noise, doing his due diligence as the family’s designated medic. 

“Mmm, oh god,” he heard and the gears began to turn in his head, but not before he also heard “Mmm, Cass, please, like that” and then, Miss Cassandra—“Like it?” she asked, unsure, vulnerable. 

Alfred was actively trying to leave at this point. 

He still heard the reply, of course—“Yes, Cass, please, lick my cunt”—and desperately wished that he had not investigated in the first place. 

**Enter Master Damian.**

The moment Alfred met Master Bruce’s blood son, he knew he was just like his father. 

In some ways, it was a blessing. After Master Bruce’s death, Alfred needed only look at Master Damian to see him in all ways.

The boy would certainly be a late bloomer, despite how advanced he claimed he was. 

(This was almost certainly propaganda from his mother because at the same age, young Master Bruce had barely been potty-trained, and Alfred was certain in this regard Master Damian followed closely in his father’s footsteps.)

For all the boy claimed to not be a child… well. 

Master Bruce returned to them, thanks to Master Timothy.

Ms. Kyle visited to give Master Bruce a piece of her mind. Alfred was sure taking a day or two off, taking the kids with him, would give them time to work their frustrations out while he was away. He was wrong. 

When he returned, luckily sans children, he was greeted at the entrance with his nearly nude master bent over in the entryway to the crack of the whip of an impeccably-dressed Ms. Kyle—who gave him a jaunty little wave—and Alfred silently and promptly backed out the front door. 

Perhaps next time he would call ahead. 

**Enter Master Timothy’s best friend Mr. Conner Kent.**

Not long after, Alfred realized he was perhaps wrong to think that Master Timothy was as much of a late bloomer as some of the others. 

It started with a butt dial. 

Well, no. It started with a perfectly good call from Master Timothy who ‘was in the kitchen and realized that there wasn’t any more coffee, could Alfred please go get some at the store?’

Alfred had said yes.

That should have been the end of it.

Not thirty seconds later, Alfred was tightly packed in an elevator in a public mall with a large sale going on. There wasn’t any space to move, even an inch. 

His phone rang again, going directly to the Bluetooth earpiece at his left ear. 

When Alfred heard what was going on at the other end, he wished that he put the ear piece by his right ear. That one was a little hard of hearing, after all. 

Heavy breathing.

“Mm, fuck me,” Master Timothy said over the phone. Alfred assumed this was not meant for him. 

“Yeah?” said Master Timothy’s best friend Conner Kent, with a pleased note. “You like that, huh, Wonder Boy?”

Alfred desperately tried to move in order to hit the ‘End Call’ button. The fat man in front of him gave him a rude look in response and pressed him further into the elevator. Alfred considered mentioning the man to one of his vigilante family members—Master Damian, perhaps—and fabricating a criminal record. Torturing kittens, for example. 

“Missed you so much, Kon,” said Tim, voice becoming muffled. 

“I’ll make it up to you, Tim.” Then, Alfred heard, on top of what sounded suspiciously like the microwave beeping, the unmistakable sound of thrusting. 

“Mm, Kon, we’re gonna break the table,” Tim complained in between moans, confirming Alfred’s worst fears. They _were_ still in the kitchen. 

“I hope so,” replied his friend, forcing Alfred to re-evaluate how much he approved of this relationship. 

"Just fuck me, Clone Boy."

"How's this? Feels good."

"Oh god yes."

The next bits of conversation were not meant for human ears and truly unspeakable. By the time Alfred managed to hang up the phone, he considered calling a biohazard team to clean up before he got home.

He ultimately didn’t, unsure how to explain what they would find there. It was something he would live to regret when he saw the kitchen for himself. 

_How can one person produce_ so much?

**Enter Master Jason, older, on Thanksgiving Day.**

When Master Jason returned, Alfred was delighted, despite Master Bruce’s reservations.

When Master Jason asked if he could bring guests to Thanksgiving dinner, Alfred had been proud and given him a resounding ‘yes’. 

When Master Jason mentioned that he was dating not one, not two, but three people, Alfred had assured him this was perfectly alright. 

When Master Jason showed up, smiling, homemade mashed potatoes in hand, and Arsenal, Starfire, and _Bizarro_ with their arms wrapped around him, Alfred had PTSD flashbacks—bombs dropping, the sound of gunfire, and the concept of having to clean up another Super’s actual _ocean_ of spunk off the kitchen table again—but weakly welcomed the four of them in for Thanksgiving dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
> Feedback
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments. 
> 
> Posted anonymously because this is the first time I've written anything that is this close to smut haha. Would really like to see what people think of it.  
> Also LMK if you'd like to see his reactions to anyone else staying in the manor and their sex life (such as Damian's first time, what happens when Clark visits, Batcow mating season?) and if you're excited enough for it, I might write it as an epilogue!


	2. Coda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim answers for some things.

**Coda.**

“I’m so, so sorry,” said Master Timothy, unable to look Alfred straight in the eye as he said it. “You had to know we really didn’t mean to just leave it like that?”

“Oh?” said Alfred, turning to raise an eyebrow. “What  _ was _ your plan, then, Master Timothy?”

Master Timothy coughed uncomfortably. “We were going to clean up, I promise! There was an unavoidable emergency Titans mission—it was time critical—”

“Understandable. Saving the world comes first. Still,” he said, affixing Master Timothy with a stare. “I do hope you have no plans of engaging in similar activities in the kitchen in the future?”

“Absolutely not!” Master Timothy agreed, nodding in a way that suggested he wanted the conversation over as quickly as possible. 

Alfred was not about to grant him that luxury. “Wonderful,” said Alfred. “I also hope you won’t mind helping Master Damian with something rather important.”

Master Timothy had a confused look on his face, but nodded. “Sure, what is it?”

Alfred remembered the scene he had come back to and went in for the kill. “Master Damian asked me about something interesting this morning,” he said mildly. “Related to his changing body and any urges he might have.”

Master Timothy’s face slackened. 

“I think it would be best if he heard about those types of things from someone closer to his own age. Someone who knows the right kind of ‘lingo’, as it were.”

“Dick?” Master Timothy suggested, frantically. “Jason? Maybe Steph? Cass? Are you sure Bruce wouldn’t want to do it?”

“Hm,” Alfred said consideringly. “We wouldn’t want to bother any of them, would we? Besides, I’m not sure any of them know the correct definition of a, well, what was it exactly that Mr. Kent called you the other day? Near the end of the call?”

Master Timothy gave Alfred a look of horror, as if suddenly realizing that from overhearing the two of them the other day Alfred knew a great deal more about their intimate activities than he ever wanted the butler to know. 

“Be a good older brother, Master Timothy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, I got quite a few comments about how Tim and Kon didn't even clean up after themselves and thought I might give Tim a chance to explain himself—and Alfred a chance to get back at him!
> 
> As always, all comments welcome!


End file.
